


Take Me Back to the Night We Met

by fictionallemons



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Benji is gay, Benthan, Benthan Week, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Crying, Ethan is gay, Gay Bar, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jack Angst, Jack Harmon - Freeform, Kissing, Love at First Sight, M/M, One Night Stands, Past Relationship(s), Spoilers, Young Benji, Young Ethan, mission: impossible - Freeform, safe sex, the NINETIES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-07-12 07:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19942297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: Ethan goes to Aruba still hurting from losing his team in Prague. He meets someone who helps him move on, but it might not be meant to be.





	1. The Night We Met

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place immediately after the events of the first Mission: Impossible movie. Jack is the character played by Emilio Estevez in that film.
> 
> Many thanks to the lovely and talented [F4nd0mG33k17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/F4nd0mG33k17/pseuds/F4nd0mG33k17) and [ Pond_Melody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pond_Melody) for their generous beta reads.
> 
> Title from the song by [ Lord Huron](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQh9eDcS1-0).

_****_

_**"Hey, why don't you come back with me?"  
**_ _****_

_**"I just…I just don't know why I'd be doing it."** _

**Aruba. 1996.**  
He supposed he wasn’t totally surprised when the flight attendant hovered over his seat and offered him the cinema of the Caribbean. Aruba, no less. It was the sort of mission you always hoped you’d get and never did—a milk run at a fancy hotel on the IMF’s dime. Ethan hadn't been lying when he’d told Luther he didn’t know what he’d be going back for. But it was Aruba. And he didn’t have anything better to do.

He accepted the mission.

Three days later it was done. Almost too easy. Almost as if someone at headquarters was apologizing for all the shit he’d gone through. _“Hey, here’s a vacation in Aruba. We’re sorry for thinking you were a murderer and a traitor and having your mother thrown in jail. Our bad! Drinks on us!”_

He sat at the hotel's poolside bar, blending in with his sandals and loud Hawaiian shirt and wraparound sunglasses. He was on his second beer and contemplating just how drunk he wanted to get tonight. This mission was over. He still didn't know if he wanted to go back. Maybe he'd make them come to him, every time they needed him. When no one else would do. He guessed that he'd made his bones on the Langley break-in. He could find work with any number of agencies—legitimate or not—on the basis of that piece of work. Luther had chosen to put his lot in with the folks who had already disavowed him once. Ethan wasn't so enthusiastic. And besides, what was the point now that—

 _No._ He wasn't going to think about that. 

He eyed his beer. He definitely needed something stronger. Hell, he was thirty-two years old, and he was in a tropical paradise with a wallet full of someone else's money. He was healthy. He was, well, attractive, to put it bluntly. He'd certainly never had to try that hard to get attention from women, which was ironic, since he hadn't been interested in kissing one since about the ninth grade, and making out with Eileen Framboso had made it official—Ethan Hunt was definitely gay.

And he was single.

He should drink some more. Maybe even try to get laid. He pushed his empty bottle away from him and the bartender strolled over. Ethan had noticed him when he'd first sat down the way he noticed everyone, putting them into boxes, assessing which might be a threat. This guy was probably a decade older than Ethan, a head taller, well-built, olive skin, dark hair. Now Ethan noticed smaller details--the tattoo peeking out from under the arm of his too-tight uniform shirt, the stud earring in his right ear. He refined his assessment: ex-Navy, possibly gay.

All right, _probably_ gay based on the way he was checking Ethan out in turn. "What can I get you?" the bartender asked, his voice silky.

Ethan smiled. "What do you suggest?"

"I make a mean piña colada."

"Too sweet."

"Oh yeah? Looking for something sour? Maybe dirty?" The bartender smirked.

"Tequila."

"Margarita?"

"Straight. Salt. Lime. And a beer chaser."

"You got it." The bartender winked. Ethan didn't wink back, but it felt good to flirt. This guy wasn't his type—Ethan preferred not to feel tiny next to his partners—but he was nice to look at.

Two shots and two more beers later, Ethan was feeling pleasantly buzzed. The bachelorette party on the other end of the bar that kept shooting inviting glances his way, however, had him feeling like a change of scene. He beckoned the bartender over. "You know of any local spots around here that I might like?"

The bartender pretended to think. "Yeah, there's a couple places. Try Second Street. You'll probably find something you'll like." Then he smiled. "I get off at midnight. Maybe I'll see you there."

"Yeah, maybe," Ethan said. He left a large tip on the bar and melted into the crowd while the bartender wasn't looking.

Second Street was easy to find, being right after Third and before the main boulevard next to the water. It was the location, but also the name of the bar displayed on a rainbow-colored neon sign that Ethan figured meant it was a safe place to pick up a guy. He still hadn't decided that's what he wanted, but it felt good to be moving, the warm night air slipping over his skin. He'd need another drink, or several, before he could think about hooking up with someone.

The bar was loud and surprisingly full, mostly men, but a few women, some dancing to the live music provided by a local jam band. Ethan ordered another tequila and beer, and then found a spot in a corner where he could survey the room.

It seemed to be a local place, with a mix of ethnicities, languages, and accents. Ethan heard Spanish, Dutch, and the local language, Papiamento, all within ten feet of him. He let the words flow over him, not listening to any conversation in particular, just floating by on his alcohol-induced haze, hoping if he drank a little more, he'd become numb. He wanted to feel nothing at all. Nothingness would be better than the fear, the loss, the betrayal, the panic of the last weeks. Oblivion would be a relief.

He drained his first beer, but felt too lazy to get up and order a second. Instead he sat, his eyes feeling heavy. Perhaps he would sleep tonight for once, instead of jolting awake every few hours, the same name on his lips—

 _Stop._ He opened his eyes. He'd get that drink. Then he heard a different voice, a different accent. "Piss off, mate. I already told you I'm not interested." The voice was rather young, and British, and seriously angry. Ethan found the source of the voice and blinked. He was young, but not as young as the voice had seemed. Maybe early twenties. He had a thin, pale, angular face. The ginger-blond hair on top of his head was cut as short as Ethan's. He couldn't see his eyes in the dim light of the bar, but Ethan would bet money they were blue. He had on cutoff blue jean shorts and a baggy light blue tank top. Sandals, of course. He looked like a twink on spring break, except it was October.

He was sitting alone and being hassled by an older, bigger guy, who clearly wasn't taking no for an answer. Ethan was off his stool and halfway to them before he realized what he was doing. When it sank in that he was possibly putting his nose where it didn't belong, he mentally shrugged. He was just drunk enough for this to seem like a good idea. If he ended up with someone taking a swing at him, well, at least a fight would be a distraction.

"Come on, just one dance," the bigger guy was saying.

"He said no," Ethan said, cutting between the two of them. He had lots of practice making himself seem intimidating despite his height. He found that unblinking stares with a touch of crazy eyes usually did the trick. 

The big guy didn't seem to know what to make of his prey suddenly having a defender.

"What's it to you?" the man said, sneering unpleasantly. "You his keeper?"

"I'm his—" Ethan broke off, glanced behind him, to see how the kid was taking the interruption. His eyes were wide, but he didn't seem angry at Ethan. "Brother," Ethan finished. "Leave him alone."

"Like hell you are," the man said. He took a step toward Ethan and Ethan reacted instinctively, his fist coming up to connect with the man's nose. There was a satisfying crunch, and a wail, and Ethan immediately cradled his bruised knuckles in his other hand while the crowd around them burst into wary murmurs.

"Holy hell," the ginger-blond said. "You just punched someone in the fucking face."

"Uh, yeah, I did," Ethan gave him a crooked grin. Then he caught sight of two bouncers making their way toward them, gave the man on the floor with the broken nose a scornful glance. "Want to get out of here?"

"I don't think we have much choice," the kid said, and they ran for the exit before they could be escorted there.

Once on the street, Ethan shook out his hand. He hadn't done any major damage, but ice wouldn't be a bad idea. "Fuck."

"You okay?"

"I'll be fine. You?"

"Fine. Thirsty, actually. I didn't get to finish my drink," the guy said with a smile.

"Then let me buy you another," Ethan said.

"Okay. I know a place a few blocks away."

"Lead the way."

"I'm Benji, by the way," the kid—Benji—said.

"Ethan."

"Ethan," Benji repeated. Ethan liked the way his name sounded on Benji's tongue. "Thanks for that…thing…back there."

"Oh, it was sort of an accident." Ethan felt that maybe he'd overreacted a little. But Benji didn't seem to mind.

"You go around punching people by accident often?"

"No, not really," Ethan said with another grin. He couldn't really seem to stop smiling around the appealing blond who had a sort of irrepressible energy about him. He practically bounced on his toes leading Ethan to another bar, this one decidedly more tourist-friendly, and quite near Ethan's hotel. "They usually have to do something first."

Benji laughed. It was a surprised sort of laugh, but genuine. Ethan smiled harder. Fuck, he was cute. Adorable, even. Not the kind of guy he might have chosen for a one-night stand. More the kind of person he might have chosen for a friend.

They reached the bar, and true to his word, Ethan bought them both drinks. A beer for himself, a screwdriver for Benji. He had to laugh at the order. It was the drink choice of a young person who wanted to get hammered the most efficient, i.e.: cheapest, way possible.

"So, Benji, what brings you to this tiny island?" Ethan asked once they were ensconced in a tiny booth in a corner of the dark bar.

Benji grimaced. "Er—kind of a long story."

"I've got time."

Benji smiled. Ethan liked his smile. It was intelligent and kind and knowing all at once. Ethan took a sip of his beer to cover up how much he wanted to kiss that smile and see what Benji tasted like.

"Well, maybe it's not long so much as predictable. There was a guy—of course, all my dumbest decisions are because of some guy—" Benji rolled his eyes at himself "—and he was like, hey, my sister's getting married in Aruba, you should come with me. So this guy, we were dating for like six weeks and he springs a wedding on me. Okay, I figured he really liked me, and since I'd been into him since like sophomore year, I thought this might even be the real thing." Benji laughed shortly and sucked down most of his drink. Ethan watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "I bought the ticket to Aruba, I bought a suit. I even sent his fucking sister a wedding present—salad tongs, if you must know—and then last week I caught him balls deep in a philosophy major in _my_ flat. His excuse? He thought I'd be out. Like it was perfectly fine that he was screwing someone else _in my own home_ , as long as I wasn't around to witness said screwing." Benji paused long enough to finish his drink. "So I said 'fuck you very much' and decided to use the nonrefundable plane ticket to get away from real life for a while, lick my wounds and all that. What about you?"

Ethan took a deep breath, because after all that talking he felt like at least one of them needed it. He caught a server's eye and indicated they wanted another round, then answered as honestly as he could. "Work. But I'm off the clock now."

"Nice work that brings you to a place like this," Benji said.

"Yeah." Ethan realized he hadn't actually enjoyed any of the beaches or the warm, dry weather and the most fun he'd had since arriving had been in the last thirty minutes.

"So what work is that, then?" Benji asked, face lighting up when the second screwdriver was deposited in front of him.

"Transportation. Are you a student?" Perhaps Benji was younger than Ethan thought. He suddenly fervently hoped the man was at least 21.

"For a little while longer, yes. At Oxford. I'm close to giving my doctoral dissertation, though. Then I'll be as free as an unemployed bird with a load of debt." 

Doctoral dissertation. So Benji was a grad student, almost a doctor of something. He must have been at least late-early twenties.

Benji sipped. "At least my area is supposed to be good for finding work."

Ethan used his fresh beer like an ice pack on his knuckles, belatedly remembering they hurt a little. "What area is that?"

"Mathematics. Cryptography, to be more precise. And computers. Code. I'm writing a program on—" Benji stopped, suddenly blushing for the first time the night. The pink stain on his cheeks was awfully attractive.

"Tell me."

"You'll probably think it's dead boring."

"I work with engineers and city planners all day. I know boring, Benji, and you're not it."

Benji turned even pinker at the offhanded compliment. "Well, it's a bit technical."

"Cryptography, huh? And computers. Are you telling me you're a hacker, Benji?" Ethan lifted an eyebrow, quirked a smile to make it seem like he was joking. But his heart sped up. He couldn't help thinking about the monumental hack he'd just pulled off, with Luther's help of course. He pushed away the other intrusive thought, about another hacker who did interesting things with computers.

Benji blushed even harder. "Hacker? Nah, not really."

"It's okay. I won't tell anybody." Ethan winked.

Benji laughed nervously.

"So, you came to Aruba to get over a guy," Ethan said, deciding a change of subject would be healthy for both of them. "Have you tried getting under one?"

Benji choked on his screwdriver. "I cannot believe you just said that. That was so cheesy!"

Ethan laughed. He regretted nothing. "I'm serious."

"Not that it's any of your business, but, no, I haven't."

"Why not?"

"Haven't seen anyone I fancied," Benji said, looking away.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Haven't met anyone who's my type." He glanced back.

"What type is that?"

"Oh, well." Benji licked his lips. Ethan imagined they'd be sweet from the orange juice. "Boyishly handsome, I suppose. Fit, of course." His gaze traveled from Ethan's face down to the vee of his Hawaiian shirt and back up again. "Prone to punching first, asking questions later."

"Ah." Ethan was absurdly pleased that Benji was flirting with him. "Well, that's too bad. Seems a shame to come all this way and not even…" He stopped unsure of what he wanted to ask for. He just wanted more time with this person.

"Not even…?" Benji lifted his eyebrows.

Ethan made up his mind. "I'm staying around the corner."

"Is that a non-sequitur?"

"No."

"All right then, since you're older and wiser, perhaps I'll take your advice." Benji tossed back the last of his drink, stood up from the table. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Thirty-two." Ethan stood, put enough money on the table to cover the second round and a tip.

"Seriously?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No, just, you look younger, that's all."

Ethan grimaced. He'd heard it all his life. He supposed one day he'd be grateful for his youthful appearance. If he lived that long.

"I'm twenty-five. Well, will be, on my next birthday." They walked out of the bar together, Ethan leading them back to his hotel. Even if all they did was drink from the minibar and talk, it would still be the best night he'd had in ages.

They made small talk all the way back to Ethan's room. He tried not to be nervous. There was no reason to be nervous. They weren't even really drunk. Benji didn't seem nervous. He seemed to talk a lot, but that was just him, not nerves that he was going back to a strange man's hotel room with him. Maybe he did this all the time. Maybe he'd lied when he'd said he hadn't hooked up with anyone on his trip and Ethan was just one of a series of guys he'd picked up and he didn't really like Ethan at all and—

 _Shut up._ He shook his head, opened the door to his room. It was air-conditioner cold inside. He went to turn the fan off. Benji paused in the doorway, looking around.

"Nice room."

Ethan glanced around. "Yeah." He hadn't really noticed. He'd been on autopilot since…since…

"You want another drink?" He opened the minibar without waiting for an answer and pulled out a beer.

"Not really," Benji said, surprising him.

Ethan put the bottle back. "Hungry? We could order room service."

"No thanks." Benji sat down on the edge of the bed. "Come here."

Ethan obeyed, sitting down, wishing irrationally that he was drunker. It would have been easier to make the first move. But then Benji surprised him again when he tilted his head and covered Ethan's mouth with his. He did taste sweet, and their noses bumped, and then Ethan got his act together and started pulling his weight. He opened his mouth and his tongue caressed Benji's slowly, firmly, and with intent. Benji moaned and opened his mouth greedily. When Ethan had made his point he slowly broke contact and was happy to see Benji still had his eyes closed, lips parted as if chasing the end of the kiss.

“Holy hell, you’re a good kisser,” Benji said. There was a touch of wonder in his voice that had Ethan’s chest puffing with pride. 

He grinned. “I’m good at other stuff, too.”

Benji bit his lip, but it wasn’t coy. "I’ve got a condom, but no, uh—"

“It’s okay. Let’s just kiss for a while. All right?”

Benji paused, studied Ethan. For one terrifying minute, Ethan got the sensation that Benji was really seeing him. The real him. Not the confident, cocky, competent Ethan Hunt, field agent, but the one who didn’t know what he was doing half the time. The one who couldn’t keep his friends from being murdered one after the other. The one who woke up in a cold sweat with a sick stomach every time he remembered that he’d lost something on that last mission, and it wasn’t his illusions or his innocence.

Benji finally nodded and they started kissing again, and it was good. It was hard to think about all that when he had an armful of adorable Brit with a sweet mouth who responded with unfettered enthusiasm to everything Ethan did. It wasn't long before Ethan had Benji arched up underneath him, just the way he'd promised would make him forget about his faithless idiot of an ex. Who could possibly cheat on Benji? He was so… _alive_. So present. So unexpected. 

Ethan pressed him into the mattress, mouth everywhere. He wanted to taste every inch of him. He wanted having sex with Benji to burn away all of the filth, all the sordidness of what happened in Prague, and Langley, and London. Benji's hand gripped Ethan's dick through his lightweight beach shorts and squeezed. Ethan's mind went blank. He just wanted _Benji_. That was all. That was enough.

The younger man squirmed out from underneath Ethan long enough to draw his tank top over his head, revealing a narrow torso and a flat stomach. He looked like even if he was spending long days at a computer, he at least wasn't inhaling junk food at the same time. Maybe he was a runner. Ethan went to town, mouthing over his tight, rosy nipples and ghosting kisses over the trail of blond hair that led into his shorts. Ethan could have spent all night paying attention to Benji's body, but the man in question had other ideas. He unbuttoned Ethan's shirt, pushing it over his biceps, groaning as he ran his hands over Ethan's muscles. Ethan worked out so he could do his job to the best of his ability, not out of vanity. But his cock swelled at Benji's hungry expression as he checked out Ethan's build.

"So, am I close enough?"

"To what?" Benji's voice was breathless.

"To your type?"

Benji shrugged in mock casualness. "I suppose. You are rather fit." Then he grinned and pulled Ethan down for another kiss. "Damn it. You know you're fucking gorgeous."

Ethan blinked up, his field of vision consumed by Benji's eyes. Clear blue, just as he'd suspected. He didn't know any such thing, but he believed it, somehow, when Benji said it. He believed Benji thought so, anyway.

"I wanted you from the moment I saw you in the bar. _Before_ you saved me."

Ethan kissed him, hard. "I didn't save you."

"Don't try to deny it. You're like a knight of old, Ethan. Chivalrous and kind. And good with your—lance," Benji added. They both dissolved into laughter at the weak joke, holding onto each other for support.

Ethan laughed so hard tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. "Now who's the cheesy one?"

"I'm sorry," Benji gasped. "I couldn't resist."

"Besides, you haven't seen me wield my lance. Yet."

"I'm ready if you are." Benji brought Ethan's hand down so he could feel the evidence of his readiness.

Ethan groaned. Benji was hard for him. They'd been taking things slow, and it had been a luxury not to rush. Ethan hadn't wanted his time with Benji to end. But now he needed—they needed—to move faster. All at once, clothes were flying off until they were both naked on top of the hotel sheets. 

Ethan stayed on top, pinning Benji's hands to the bed, kissing him senseless before releasing him in order to slide down and get his first look at Benji's cock, flushed red and curving up to his belly, nestled against reddish-gold curls. His mouth watered.

"May I?" he asked. 

Benji shivered and nodded. "But—wait, let me get a condom."

"Is there something I should know?" Ethan asked.

"I'm clean," Benji said. "But I always use one."

"Then let's use one," Ethan said easily. He wanted to taste Benji, but he wanted to make him feel good more.

Benji rolled the condom on with practiced ease, making Ethan feel irrationally jealous of every other man who'd had Benji's cock in his mouth. He decided if he couldn't be the only one, he'd be the best head Benji had ever had. 

He went to work, using every trick he knew, loving the way Benji's cock felt filling his mouth, loving the sounds he made, low and desperate. He got his hands and fingers in on the action, moving them from Benji's hips to cup his balls and then press two fingers firmly over Benji's perineum, stroking backwards until Benji writhed and bucked, knocking the tip of his cock against the back of Ethan's throat, making his eyes water. 

He loved it, he loved that Benji was so into it, loved that sucking this adorable twenty-four-year-old's cock was making him feel good, so good it pushed everything else out of his brain. All that mattered was Benji and the contact between their bodies. Ethan was insanely hard, but he didn't care about that. He sucked like his life depended on it, and then he slipped the tips of two fingers into Benji's tight hole. Benji moaned loudly, and Ethan felt the condom fill with Benji's come. He took his time pulling off Benji's cock, stroking his fingers back up the path they came down, not ready to let go yet. Benji lay panting and boneless on the bed.

"Fuck. Ethan. Fuck." That seemed to be all he was capable of saying. Ethan decided that was an indicator that he'd done good and grinned, laying down next to the other man, pulling his sweaty torso against him.

"Okay?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Bloody brilliant," Benji confirmed. "Now you."

Ethan realized that he almost didn't need to come. Benji's orgasm had a halo effect, bringing Ethan a sense of satisfaction he hadn't had in ages. There was no need to turn down Benji's eager offer, even if a silent part of him was yelling that he didn't deserve to come, didn't deserve the attention of someone like Benji. They were naked in bed, after all, and they had another condom. But no lube. Ethan was pretty sure that's what Benji had been about to say earlier.

"I've got a med kit. I think there's something we could use in it if you—"

"Get it," Benji said. Almost ordered, really. Ethan's cock responded with a twitch.

He went to the bathroom, pulled out a tube of something lube-adjacent, and was back in bed before either of them could change their minds.

They didn't talk, just prepared themselves between messy, still-eager kisses. Ethan rolled on a condom, watching Benji spread his legs and finger himself with the slick. It was extremely hot, especially when he noticed that Benji was getting hard again already. Ah, to have the stamina of a twenty-four-year-old. He stroked some of the stuff over himself roughly. He was so hard, he had the ridiculous notion that he was going to break the condom. It had been a while since he'd done so much as jerk off for a moment's relief, and now he was going to be inside someone he'd met mere hours ago. But Benji didn't feel like a stranger. Ethan felt like this wasn't even their first time, that maybe this was the hundredth, the thousandth, the millionth time they'd come together, if not in this lifetime than in some parallel universe, some past life. They fit together, a matched set. Dark hair and light. Taller and wiry, shorter and strong.

And when Benji flipped over onto all fours and Ethan lined up behind him, they fit that way, too.

Ethan's cock found Benji's hole with ease. The tip slipped inside almost before Ethan was ready to experience the tightness and the heat that immediately engulfed him. Benji let out a gasp.

"Are you okay?" Ethan gritted out, holding off on burying himself inside Benji with every ounce of his self-control.

"God. Fuck." Benji shuddered out a breath. "More, Ethan."

Ethan marveled at how confident Benji had been since they arrived at the hotel room. He liked the version of Benji who blushed over his geeky computer skills and who'd rather shyly flirted with him in the bar. But he was enthralled with this Benji, too, the one who knew what he wanted and asked for it.

He pushed in about halfway, let Benji adjust, let himself experience the miracle of being this close to someone else.

And then Benji said, "Please."

Ethan slammed all the way in. Benji howled and yelled. "That's it. Again." Ethan did as he was told. He'd always been fairly good at taking orders, but didn't hesitate to improvise. He kept up the pace of the thrusts, then reached around to stroke Benji's rapidly hardening cock. The rhythm wasn't quite right for either of them to come, but it didn't matter. It felt amazing. 

Benji was so…Ethan didn't know quite how to describe him. Eager. Playful. Strong. Generous. And Ethan was so grateful that he'd been able to get this far with another human being. It meant there was hope. It meant that his life hadn't ended in Prague. It meant he had a chance to move on—but, wait, that was bad, wasn't it? Did it mean he would forget, that he wouldn't be honoring what they had?

Ethan continued pumping into Benji, but his mind was suddenly miles away.

The last time he'd been inside someone he'd been inside _Jack_. He let himself think the name for the first time all night. They'd been a little drunk, in between missions, in Ethan's depressing studio apartment. They had pizza and too much beer and then a girl had tried to pick up Ethan at the pizza place and Jack had rolled his eyes and hauled him out of there faster than you could say "hasta lasagne." Ethan had kissed Jack right inside the door to his place, as an apology, as a way to say, "You're the only one that I want." And then he'd actually caved and said, "I want you." 

Jack had smirked and said, "I know," and they'd gone to the bedroom and fucked, with Jack on top, and then later, with Ethan behind Jack just like this. It had been so easy, so good, and Ethan had come, just like he was about to come right now, and suddenly he was back in his airless apartment and the air smelled like the wintergreen gum Ethan hadn't been able to chew since Prague, and Jack was alive and warm and familiar and Ethan felt himself coming, but as if it was happening to someone else. 

From a distance he heard himself say, "Yes, Jack. So good. I'm coming, Jack."

Then the light and the sound rushed back in and he was in an Aruban hotel room and Benji— _not Jack_ —was scrambling away from him. Ethan felt sick. Shame and guilt and grief bubbled up through him.

He made himself look at Benji, a few feet away now, his flushed face a mask of shock. 

"What the fuck is your problem, Ethan? Jesus."

Ethan felt drops of water on his face. _Oh._ They were tears.

"I know we just met, but saying someone else's name while you're inside them is pretty messed up." Benji sounded angry, but also—hurt?

"I'm sorry." Ethan turned away, hiding his face, pulling the condom off, tying it and dropping it into a trash can. Maybe Benji would be so repulsed he'd just leave Ethan alone with his shame and misery and Ethan wouldn't have to watch someone he'd grown to admire in a short while find him utterly disgusting.

He thought he got his wish when he felt the bed shift and heard Benji get up and walk away. But he didn't head for the door. Instead he said, "I need a minute," and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Ethan closed his eyes, wiping moisture away from his lashes. _Fuck._ Then he opened them again and found his boxers and put them on and went to the minibar and took out a bottle of water and drank half in one gulp.

He heard Benji come out and made himself look. Benji was wearing his shorts, but nothing else. He stared at Ethan steadily, as if daring him to throw him out. When Ethan said nothing, Benji nodded, as if something had been decided. 

"Who is Jack?" Benji didn't sound angry anymore. His tone was soft. Of course he'd give Ethan the benefit of the doubt, even with his history of being cheated on. Benji was a good person. Ethan wasn't. 

He didn't answer. He didn't deserve Benji's understanding, his concern. 

"Tell me." That hint of command in Benji's voice—Ethan had to give him that much. He was asking for so little. 

"Jack—was—my coworker. And my lover. Well, I was in love with him." Ethan swallowed. "I think he loved me. He never said." He took a deep breath, avoided Benji's gaze. "And then he died. He was killed." 

"When was this?" Benji asked. 

Ethan didn't even have to calculate; he already knew. "Twenty-nine days ago." 

"Shit." 

"I couldn't save him. I'm not a knight, Benji. I'm a fool. And I've ruined this," he gestured between them. "I'm so, so sorry for putting you through that." 

Benji walked toward him, until they were standing face to face, both barefoot. Benji was a couple of inches taller than Ethan, but the difference could have been two feet for how small Ethan felt at that moment. 

"Listen, Ethan, don't apologize. Obviously…" Benji blew out a breath. "Obviously hearing you say another man's name while you were coming inside me was rough but—" 

Ethan felt like scum. "I'm shit. I can't believe I did that, I was—I don't even know what happened. I have no excuse. But suddenly I was…somewhere else. Fuck." 

Benji held up a hand. "Ethan, you're not shit. You're in pain. You lost someone, suddenly, and recently, and you loved him. Me getting my feelings hurt kind of pales in comparison." 

"Don't do that," Ethan said. 

"Do what?" 

"Let me off the hook. I hurt you and that's the last thing I wanted to do." 

"Before you interrupted me, I was going to say the reason it was so rough to hear that was because I really, um, like you, Ethan. And I thought we'd connected, and even though we barely know each other, I guess I sort of let myself get carried away. So, I'm sorry." Benji smiled ruefully. "This is a one-night-stand. I get it. The way you said his name—I could tell you loved him. I guess I was jealous. Now that I know what happened, I feel terrible for feeling jealous. See, we can descend into a shame spiral together." 

"This is not your fault," Ethan said stubbornly. He didn't let himself process the other things Benji had just said—about liking him. About their connection. The idea that this was just a one-night-stand…it was all that he deserved, and nowhere near what he wanted. 

"Ethan, I think you have a lot of work to do to heal. Don't take on more when I'm telling you I'm okay." 

Ethan's eyes clouded with tears again. He felt the furthest thing from a take-charge secret agent there was. He felt lost, and broken. Everything hurt. 

"There's one more thing. I'm sure he loved you, too." Benji smiled lopsidedly. "How could anyone not?" 

Ethan crumpled, pitching forward against Benji's chest, letting the younger, taller man fold him in his arms. He cried for Jack, for what he'd lost and how he'd failed him, and he cried for Claire and Hannah and Sarah—would Benji be able to absolve him of them, too? Knowing Benji, how steadfastly he seemed to believe in Ethan no matter the evidence, he probably would. And he cried because no matter how much he wanted it to be different, this night with Benji was the only one they were going to get. 

Benji would go back to real life in the real world, get his doctorate, make a pile of money with some software design. He'd have the world at his feet, while Ethan had to settle for merely saving it. Benji couldn't have a place in Ethan's life if he returned to the IMF, and Ethan would never fit in in Benji's reality. 

The thought made him ache. 

Benji held him, and let him cry, rubbing soothing circles against his shoulders, his arms, the small of his back. Ethan didn't quite know when the touches became something besides just comforting. Benji's chest was wet with Ethan's tears, red from where Ethan's face had rested. Ethan kissed the redness, tasting his own salt on Benji's skin, feeling perversely satisfied that he'd marked Benji's body, even if only temporarily. They might not have much time left together, but Ethan knew he'd always remember the adorable Brit with the steely backbone. If Benji was going to remember him, too, he wanted to leave him with more good memories than bad. 

They moved slowly this time, undressing again and getting under the covers. They traded kisses instead of quips, moans of pleasure instead of painful stories. Benji kissed Ethan's eyelids, gentle and soothing. Ethan licked Benji's carotid artery, feeling the blood pulse through his body, steady and strong. 

Benji's vitality was an antidote, calming Ethan's roiled gut, reminding him that life went on, that there was a reason he'd joined the IMF. It wasn't because of Jack and it wasn't because he was an adrenaline junky who liked playing dress-up. He wanted to make the world safe for people like Benji, who saw the good in people, who forgave trespasses and deserved to live in peace. Benji might have been a hacker—Ethan wasn't dumb—but he believed that Benji would never use his powers for evil. He couldn't hide the goodness shining out of him. Ethan had a duty to do what he could to protect that, as well and as long as he could. 

They rocked against each other, flesh to flesh, murmuring vague tender nothings, until they spilled into each other's hands, and fell asleep next to each other, heads together on a single pillow. 

*** 

Ethan woke to the sight of Benji's bare bottom. His smile dropped when the bottom disappeared underneath Benji's clothes. The blond turned around and startled. "Oh! You're awake." 

"I'm awake," Ethan confirmed. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Benji to come back to bed. But it would have just been prolonging the inevitable. Ethan had already made peace with the fact that he was going back to the IMF. Even though he now had hope that things were going to get better, he was in no position to offer anything to Benji. He certainly didn't want Benji pining away for him when he could be killed or disavowed at any time. So he just sat up and said, "Thanks, Benji. Have a good trip home." 

Benji smiled. "Thanks. You too. I actually have to hustle to get to the airport." 

"Be careful." He was talking about the travel, and the hacking, and the danger of hooking up with people who'd break his heart. Hopefully Benji got all that. Maybe he did, because he nodded. 

"I hope I see you again someday, Ethan. When you have your shit together," he said mockingly stern. 

"I hope so, too." It wasn't a lie, but Ethan was too afraid to make it a wish. 

Benji leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. And then he turned and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to leave it there on an angsty note, you can stop reading now, but if you want the happy ending...read on to chapter two!!


	2. Take Me Back

**Virginia. 2006.**

Ethan whistled as he left the conference room. His last mission had gone well, and he was about to take a few days off and go heliboarding in New Zealand. He needed a break. Work was good, but he couldn't deny that in his downtime he wished he had someone to share more of his life with. Better to keep busy than to dwell on missed opportunities.

"About to go on vacation, right?" Carter Reyes, a fellow agent, said as they strode toward the elevator bank.

"Yep, flying out tonight."

A door opened behind them and Reyes turned to look, then paused mid-stride and backed up. "Hey, Ethan, I want you to meet someone," Reyes said. Ethan stopped and turned around. "Ethan Hunt, this is Benjamin Dunn. He's joining us in Tech Services."

Ethan's generic welcome smile froze on his face. Benji's expression mirrored how Ethan felt—surprised, flustered. Happy. He looked the same, a little older. He had a short beard, more ginger than blond, and he had smile lines around his clear blue eyes. He wore a Radiohead t-shirt under his lab coat. He'd filled out, no longer the lanky student, but a mature man. He was older, after all, than Ethan had been the night they'd met.

He'd thought about Benji a lot over the years. About how, if he really wanted to, he could use what he knew about him—his first name, the fact that he was at Oxford getting a graduate degree in Mathematics with a specialty in cryptography—and track him down. He did want to. But he felt like he couldn't. Benji had his entire life ahead of him. He didn't need a man with as much baggage and a lifestyle like Ethan's to come in and fuck everything up. He deserved better. 

Still, whenever Ethan was in England for work, he'd find himself scanning crowds for blue eyes and blond hair and wish that their paths would cross again.

He never imagined their paths would cross in the halls of the Impossible Mission Force's Virginia office.

"Ethan." It had been a decade, but Ethan still loved the way Benji said his name.

"You've already met?" Reyes said.

"It's been a while," Ethan said. He knew he was grinning stupidly, but he couldn't help it.

"Too long," Benji said.

Distantly, Ethan registered that Reyes was glancing back and forth between them with a curious look on his face. "Okay, well, I'll see you when you get back, Ethan." Footsteps rang down the hall, and then they were alone.

There were so many things to say. Ethan started with: "You go by Benjamin now?"

"Er, yeah. Well. Professionally."

"I like Benji better." There it was—the flush of pink across Benji's cheekbones, the start of an embarrassed smile. "You look good, Benji."

"Um, Ethan, we're going to be working together. I don't know if this is a good idea." Benji said the words, but his inability to wipe a smile from his lips betrayed him.

If he'd learned anything at all in the last ten years, it was that time is fickle, and they weren't guaranteed anything. He didn't have a second to spare to pretend he didn't know what he wanted. "Are you married? Seeing anyone? In unrequited love with some idiot who doesn't know what he's missing?"

Benji's smile faded slightly. "Well, I have sort of been carrying a torch for a guy for about a decade."

"Oh yeah? What's the story there?"

"One-night stand. Best and worst night of my life."

Ethan's stomach dropped to his toes. "How so?"

"The night I met you. And the night I had to say goodbye. I was gutted for weeks."

"Weeks?" Ethan took a step closer.

" _Years_. No one else ever compared."

"And now you found me."

"Not on purpose."

"I thought about looking for you."

"You did?"

"But you were right. I had to get my shit sorted out. And when I finally did, there was this job. It's…well, it's dangerous, Benji. I didn't want to put you in a situation where you'd have to deal with that."

"But here I am, throwing myself into it."

"Tech Services isn't the field."

Benji rocked back on his heels, looking pleased with himself. "Oh, didn't Agent Reyes mention? I already applied for the field training program."

"You did?"

"What's the IMF's policy on coworkers, um…"

"Dating? Fucking? Cohabitating?"

Benji blushed again. "I guess."

"I don't know. We'll find out. And if they have a problem with it, I'll leave."

"Don't be ridiculous," Benji said.

Ethan's heart constricted painfully, until Benji added, "I'd be the one to leave. I can get a job anywhere. You have a very specific skill set. Or so I hear. Stories about the legendary Ethan Hunt abounded during onboarding. I just didn't know that Ethan Hunt was _my_ Ethan. You broke into the CIA. You probably climb tall buildings and jump out of helicopters every other week."

Ethan laughed in relief. "Actually, I was about to go heliboarding for a few days."

"What in god's name is heliboarding?"

"Uh, you kind of go up in a helicopter and fly over a mountain, and then jump out and snowboard down the mountain. And repeat."

"You are a top-level field agent for the IMF and you want to jump out of a helicopter for _fun_?"

"You'll get used to it."

"I might find it best not to look."

"Besides, I think I'll postpone my vacation."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well someone's gotta show you the ropes. And it takes forever to accrue PTO around here. We should wait until you've got a week saved."

"I'm not heliboarding. Sorry. That's a hard no."

"Fine. We'll go somewhere else."

"Aruba?"

"If you like."

"I'd like anywhere with you."

Ethan couldn't stand it any longer. He had to touch Benji. "My office is at the end of the next corridor."

"Is that a non-sequitur?" Benji asked.

"No," Ethan said.

"Then lead the way, old man," Benji said, falling into step next to him.

Ethan laughed. "So, does that mean I'm not your type anymore?"

Benji groaned. "You're still boyishly handsome. You're even fitter than before. And you're still bloody gorgeous. Stop fishing for compliments."

"And you are as adorable as ever," Ethan said, pausing in front of his office door, fumbling a little in his haste to open it.

Benji stopped at the threshold. "You think I'm adorable?"

"I think you're sexy, smart, kind, and yes, adorable. Now get in here so I can ravage you over my desk."

"Ethan, don't you think you're moving a little fast? Maybe it feels like we know each other, but we really don't." Benji didn't move from the doorway. "You might think you want me, but after you get to know me, you—"

"Okay, I don't know your life story. I don't know what you've been doing for the last ten years. I don't know your favorite food or your favorite song or your favorite James Bond movie. But I know what you did for me that night. I know what it meant to me. I honestly don't think I'd be here right now if it wasn't for you." Benji's eyes were shining with a glaze of tears. "You said to me once that you liked me. That we had a connection. Well, I felt it, too. I liked you then. I never stopped. We've had to endure ten years apart, but that connection has never broken. Can you blame me for not wanting to spend another minute without you?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ethan. You're a bloody romantic, aren't you?"

"Aren't you?"

"That's not the point." Benji wiped his eyes and glared. "It's not fair."

"I don't fight fair," Ethan said. "I fight to win. You'll see."

"I suppose I already have."

"Have I won you, then?" The hope was evident in his voice.

"Getting there," Benji said. "Let's see if you're as wonderful a kisser as you were the night we met."

Ethan met Benji halfway, the kiss by turns heated, as if they couldn't consume each other fast enough, and languid, as if they had all the time in the world.

"What's your verdict?" Ethan asked, breathing heavily into Benji's neck. "As good as you remember?"

"Better."

"I am better now," Ethan said, turning serious. "Not perfect, but better. Truly."

"I know, Ethan. I knew you'd come out the other side."

"I did." Ethan took Benji's hand in his. "I know it sounds crazy, but I think I've been waiting for you. Even though when you left, I thought it was impossible that I'd ever see you again."

Benji squeezed Ethan's hand. "Leaving that morning was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Nearly impossible. But I never thought it was impossible that I'd see you again. You were the most remarkable man I'd ever met. On some level I felt impossible wasn't in your vocabulary. But I was wrong—turns out it's your specialty."

Ethan grinned. "Little bit."

"So maybe you can pull off something else that seems impossible." Benji leaned his forehead against Ethan's.

"What's that?"

"Can you explain how the bloody coffee maker in the break room works? All I get from it is sludge."

"Ah, well, that's easy to solve. Never drink break room coffee. I'll show you the coffee shop I like. It's around the corner from my place."

"Fine." Benji sighed heavily, as if reluctantly conceding. "You can show me in the morning." He ruined the effect by smiling widely.

Ethan kissed Benji's smile, his entire body singing with joy. "Promise?"

"That's a promise."


End file.
